Things Can Change
by my shangri-la
Summary: Picks up during iGoodbye. Rated T for now. May go up later. Sam/Freddie pairing; Sam/Spencer fluff (non-romantic).
1. Chapter 1

_**iCarly - Things Can Change**_

**Disclaimer: Oh, please.**

**Pairings: Sam/Freddie and Sam/Spencer fluff – non-romantic relationship**

**A/N: Okay, so I'll admit right now to being too old watch this show, but I cried for four days after I watched the finale. I decided the only way to quit moping was to start writing. Now, this isn't my first story, but it is the first time writing in this fandom. Let me know what you think. And FYI, for my purposes, I'm assuming this is their junior year.**

_**Chapter 1**_

Carly was spending a little time with Spencer while she packed for her trip to Italy. After they finished making each other all emotional, Carly straightened and moved back to her dresser and finished rearranging her things.

"Will you do me a favor?" she asked seriously.

Spencer smiled slightly, "Anything, kiddo."

"Keep an eye on Sam", she shrugged. "I don't know what she's gonna do-"

He nodded. "No problem. It would be nice if she managed to get through senior year without going back to Juvie", he said wryly.

"In her defense, she _really_ thought that pork chop was a free sample." Carly gestured to the right half of her dresser, "That side's empty. If she needs to crash here… tell her she can stay in my room." She gestured around helplessly. "Half the stuff in here is hers anyway", she managed, tearing up again.

He hugged her again. "Aw, don't start with the tears again."

"I can't… help it", he she hiccupped.

"Well, it's a good thing this snot on my shirt is _super_ attractive", he teased.

Carly pulled away reluctantly. She really didn't want to leave her brother alone. She knew she could count on Freddie and Sam to keep him occupied though, and it eased the guilt just a bit.

"I don't know what else to pack", she murmured, looking around her bedroom.

Spencer shrugged. "I'll send anything you missed. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, and what about when I miss you? I wish I could just bring everyone with me", she sighed.

"Hey, we'll be here when you come back", he reminded, kissing the top of her head. "And you can call, or video chat anytime you want. It won't be forever. And you should be excited to spend some time with Dad. You never really got to."

"I am", she nodded. "Okay, enough crying. Any more blubber time and we'll evolve into whales."

Spencer chuckled, "Right. Okay. We should go downstairs before Sam starts making a blow torch to use on the chicken in the freezer. It's been three whole _hours_ since she had tacos."

Carly sighed and followed her brother out of her room. "She ate the chicken this morning", she said, using the overly patient tone she had developed for Sam's many irrational acts of spontaneity.

"_Of_ course she did", he shook his head in amusement.

00

Sam got to scream-cry at Lewbert, which would have made her day if she wasn't already so completely miserable over her best friend leaving the country for an undetermined amount of time. They had hugged the entire ride down in the elevator, and then one more time before Carly got into the taxi taking her and her father to the international airport.

She prided herself on not jumping into the car with them and demanding to go with her best friend to Italy. Sam hadn't even taken suitcase inventory to see which one she might be able to fit in – something she had always done since the trip to the Canadian Fat Cake Factory and she almost couldn't cross the border to come home.

But Carly's last request before she got into the car after her father made her pause, and she was once again reminded that this affected more than just her. And those words pounded in her head as she drove her motorcycle around the city for some much-needed, night air.

"_Take care of Spencer for me", Carly said quietly as they said their final goodbyes. "I don't want him to be alone. You know he doesn't have any friends his age."_

_Sam smiled slightly. "That's 'cause most people his age are nubs."_

_Carly gave a watery smile of her own. "Promise me you'll still come over and stuff. My room is yours if you need it. I cleaned out half the dresser."_

"_Hey, you know we love Spencer", Sam nodded. "Don't worry, okay? We'll keep each other company until you come back."_

"_Thank you", Carly said earnestly. "Love you, Sam- be good."_

_Sam laughed under her breath. "Yeah, yeah, love you too, kid. Try and get in some trouble."_

"_Bye, Sam."_

"_Bye, Carls – and don't forget to call Spencer when you land."_

_Carly nodded. "I won't." And then she was gone._

00

Needless to say, Spencer was startled to be awakened by noises in his kitchen the next morning. He jumped out of his room with his weapon of choice and found… Sam.

She just blinked at him, and then gestured to the object in his hands. "If I was a burglar, you were going to bash me over the head with a tennis racket?"

"It's six a.m." he groaned. "What are you doing here this early on a Sunday?'

She looked pointedly at the mug in front of her. "I wanted coffee", she shrugged.

"Uh-huh", he muttered warily. "Do you remember the last time you got left alone in my kitchen?"

She scowled. "That was three years ago. I can cook stuff now!" Sam insisted. "Besides, if we're gonna talk about all the fires that happened in this apartment-" she threatened.

"Truce", Spencer declared before she could continue.

She grinned brightly. "That's what I thought. Coffee?" she offered.

He took the cup she offered with narrowed eyes. "You want me to make bacon, don't you?"

"_Yes, please_", she nodded emphatically, eyes rolling back obscenely.

He went around the counter and nudged her towards the living room. "Stop that and go watch cartoons or something. Hey, how did you get in here?" he asked while digging in the fridge for the package of bacon. "The door is still attached."

Sam smirked. "I picked the lock. I'm gonna go wake up Freddie for breakfast", she announced, heading towards the door.

"Sam, he's _asleep-_"

Spencer gave up when he heard Sam's battle cry as she kicked the Benson's door open. He snorted at another shriek that he _hoped_ was Mrs. Benson, before some arguing. Several minutes later, the first batch of bacon was in a frying pan and Sam was dragging Freddie in by his ear, pajamas, bed-head , and all.

"Ow, ow, ow- _Sam!_" he protested.

"Hush! I smell bacon! We're on sacred ground. Hallelujah, Momma's home", she held out her arms, head tilted towards the ceiling dramatically.

"Oh, _god-_"

"Shut it!"

"Freddie! Have some coffee!" Spencer called.

"Coffee, good", he muttered sleepily, heading to the kitchen.

"_Sammm __**Puckett!**_" Spencer bellowed.

"_Spen-cer __**Shaaaayyyy!**_" she yelled back in amusement.

"_I have your bacon!_" he answered in a British accent.

She trotted into the kitchen and let him drop a slice in her mouth. She groaned happily. "I love you. Let's get married."

"Uh, Sam, are you talking to Spencer or the bacon?" Freddie asked with a grin.

She smiled sheepishly, then she chuckled. "Hey, Spencer can make me breakfast for life. We can go to Vegas right now."

"And that's no more coffee for Sammy", Spencer muttered teasingly, reaching to ruffle her hair.

"_Sammy?"_ Freddie repeated incredulously.

She gasped in horror before whining in protest. "Nobody has called me that since Melanie when we were nine."

"Yep, she claims she didn't want to be nicknamed after a puppy", Spencer grinned. "And since she was pretty much a holy terror until she was eleven, we called her-"

"Spencer, don't you dare", she warned seriously. '_Hurricane Sam_' was her least favorite nickname _ever_ – for more reasons than one.

He wisely shut up. "So, who wants more bacon?"

"Bacon me!" Sam demanded.

0

Spencer corners her in the kitchen later.

"I'm sorry", he says, voice quiet enough to keep Freddie from hearing them over the television. "I forgot."

"It's fine", she shrugged. _It would take way more effort than she was willing to conjure up right now for her to pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about._

"No, it's not", he sighed.

"I know you didn't mean it like that", she shook her head. "It's okay."

"Sam-"

"I forgive you, okay? I'm not mad. Can we just leave it in the past?"

"You are not a mess", he said seriously. "You've got some messy habits – like sticking your finger in the jar of peanut butter", he teased, nudging her playfully, "But you're not a mess. Okay?"

She smiled slightly. "Okay."

00

**A/N: Alrighty then! First chapter done! Drop me a line. Let me know what you think. I think we should be seeing some Sam/Freddie angsty-ness from Sam's perspective by chapter three. I have it written, I just need to finish the second chapter to make sure that's where I'm going to put it.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**iCarly - Things Can Change**_

**Disclaimer: Oh, please.**

**Pairings: Sam/Freddie and Sam/Spencer fluff – non-romantic relationship**

**A/N: Okay, so I'll admit right now to being too old watch this show, but I cried for four days after I watched the finale. I decided the only way to quit moping was to start writing. Now, this isn't my first story, but it is the first time writing in this fandom. Let me know what you think.**

_**Chapter 2**_

Freddie went to the Shay loft after school the second Monday after Carly left. He opened the door and found Spencer doing something with three huge balls of foil, wire, and some planks of wood. He raised his eyebrows, but he didn't ask.

"Hey, Freddo", Spencer greeted. "You're right on time. Carly's gonna call on twenty minutes."

"Yeah, I know. Have you seen Sam?" Freddie rolled his eyes. "She skipped school today."

"She did? I haven't heard from her all weekend."

"I texted her earlier and haven't heard back", Freddie grumbled, yanking his oversized phone from its case to call her. A few seconds later he set his phone on the coffee table. "Her phone's off."

Spencer shrugged. "I'm sure she'll be here."

It was three fifty-five when the door opened and Sam came in, carrying a suspiciously large box that she set by the door.

"Dude, Carly's supposed to call in five minutes, and you missed school", Freddie said exasperatedly. "Where have you been? I called your phone and- what the hell? Is that a ping-pong table?"

"I went to L. A. for the weekend. My battery's dead. Yes, this is a ping-pong table. Is there any ham?" she went to the fridge.

"You went to L. A.? By yourself?" Spencer asked, finally distracted from whatever he was doing with the wood and balls of foil.

"Yeah, I got back this morning and went to bed", she muttered as she sawed into the ham she pulled from the fridge. "I got five hundred bucks."

"What- _Sam!_" Freddie said exasperatedly.

She turned around in surprise. "What?" she asked evenly, going back to her ham. "Uncle Carmine asked me to do him a favor and he paid me."

"A favor", Freddie repeated flatly. He'd met her uncle and- _yikes_.

She took two more bites and put the ham back in the fridge, coming back into the living room with a soda bottle. "He's got a storage space in Los Angeles. I had to go pick up his baseball card collection. He said if I wanted anything to grab it. So- ping-pong table", she gestured to the box. "I don't even think it's been opened."

"I would have taken you", Spencer said seriously.

She shrugged. "It's okay. Arnold let me take his car."

"Sam-" A chime sounded from the computer, and Spencer dove for it. "_Carly!_"

Sam grinned as her best friend's face showed on the screen.

"Hey, Spencer", she laughed. "Sam, Freddie, what's up, guys?"

"Sam skipped school today so she could party in L. A. all weekend", Freddie offered in a sarcastically helpful tone.

The blonde in question delivered a hard punch to his shoulder. "I wasn't _partying_", she spat. "Don't be a jerk."

"You missed school?" Carly said disapprovingly. "You can't really afford to miss class, Sam."

"It's was only one day. Just chill out, alright? Forget about me. How's Italy?"

Carly sighed, but then launched into a story about the school she had just started and a few people that she'd met. They talked for almost twenty minutes before Carly had to go.

"I miss you guys", she said.

"We miss you too, kiddo", Spencer said.

"Miss you, Carls", Sam said lightly.

"Talk to you soon", Freddie waved.

"And no more missing school, ya delinquent", Carly scolds Sam seriously before she ended the video chat.

Sam went to go dig in her bag, pulling out a thin book and flopped on the couch.

"Are you reading a _book_?" Freddie asked incredulously. Sam groaned loudly, and held the booklet in his direction. "_Hamlet?_" he raised both eyebrows. "Shouldn't you have read that last year?"

"Yes", she muttered. "But I didn't, and now I have ten days to read this and I have to take a final – which I'm going to fail spectacularly because I don't understand a word of this garbage. It's not even English. This is like French."

"_Sam_", he laughed. "You _took _French."

"I didn't understand that either! I don't care if this if 'old English' or whatever. It's not American!"

Freddie grinned at her. "Want some help?" he offered finally.

"_Yes_."

He pushed her legs off the couch and sat down, reaching to take the book from her.

"Did you pick this one because it has the word ham in it, or did someone tell you that nearly everyone gets killed by the end of the story?" he teased, flipping to the beginning.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Neither. It was this or '_Romeo and Juliet_' and the idea of reading something so stupid nearly made me vomit."

0

Most of their free time over the next ten days was spent with him reading to her, Sam's feet often propped on his shoulder and head as she lounged. She interrupted nearly every five minutes to ask him what the hell was going on, but they were still making it through the play at a steady pace.

She interrupted him less as the days went on, eyes closed as she listened, and he reached over to poke her every ten minutes or so to make sure she was awake.

They were three-quarters of the way through by Thursday, and Freddie looked down at her shuffling and found her leaning against a pillow on his thigh. He raised an eyebrow down at her, but she just huffed and gestured at him to continue reading while her eyes shut again.

_Okay then._

0

When she took her test the following Wednesday, Mr. Daniels grudgingly gave her a 'B', and they celebrated by going to the Groovy Smoothie.

00

**A/N: Okay, well, I wanted to get this out tonight because I have a long day tomorrow – your reviews will keep me occupied. **** I have the majority of the next four chapters worked out, so, let me know what you think. Hijinks to follow in the next few chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**iCarly - Things Can Change**_

**Disclaimer: Oh, please.**

**Pairings: Sam/Freddie and Sam/Spencer fluff – non-romantic relationship**

**A/N: Okay, so I'll admit right now to being too old watch this show, but I cried for four days after I watched the finale. I decided the only way to quit moping was to start writing. Now, this isn't my first story, but it is the first time writing in this fandom. Let me know what you think.**

_**Chapter 3**_

"I took- a cab." That was the first thing out of Sam's mouth when she stumbled into the Shay apartment close to midnight the second weekend after Carly had left for Italy. It was also nearly twenty-four hours after a guilty call of admission from her best friend. For the first time _ever_, she had hung up on Carly – and had promptly turned her phone off. She had spent the night walking around the city, not trusting herself on her motorcycle when she was so full of anger and tunnel vision. She went back home as the sun came up and slept for several hours. When she woke up in the early afternoon, her mother was still gone, and all Sam could see was the liquor cabinet glaring back at her…

Spencer gave her a sideways glance from where he was watching recorded episodes of _Celebrities under Water_, and then did a double take and stood up_._ "Are you _drunk_?" he asked incredulously.

It was a stupid question on his part, she looked like a complete disaster, but he was shocked. Sam's mother enjoyed a bit too much alcohol on occasion – he was pretty sure Sam didn't touch the stuff. But here she was, standing in his doorway in her pajamas and flip-flops, duffle bag hanging loosely from her hand.

She blinked at him owlishly and made her way to the couch – discarding her bag and shoes behind her as she moved – and flopped on it, taking up all the space. "You know what?" she muttered into a pillow.

He sighed. "What?"

"Tequila and Crystal Light packets don't mix well", she answered seriously. "You're living room is spinning", Sam offered observantly after a few more seconds.

Spencer sighed exasperatedly and went to the kitchen for a minute, coming back with a bottle of water and a few acetaminophen tablets. He forced it into her hand. "You are _so_ going to regret this in the morning", he said seriously.

She managed the pills and a few swallows of water before grimacing, eyes scrunching tightly. "I already do", she admitted quietly. "The second, third, and fourth times I had the cab driver pull over so I could puke _really_ convinced me not to do it again."

"_Eww_", Spencer grimaced.

"And he charged me an extra thirty bucks", she rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure 'vomit inflation' isn't a real cost add-on."

He chuckled. "I've never heard of it."

Sam sat up slowly curling into the corner of the couch, elbows on her knees, and forehead in her hands. Spencer took his seat back on the cushion next to her.

"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Do you know how much it sucks not to have your best friend at school? _It sucks! Everything sucks!_ Nobody else plays my conscience and tells me not to skip classes or not to _try_ to get detention-"

"Sam, this is way more girl drama than I-"

"-and I didn't know until this week that I hate every single _person_ I go to high school with! How does that happen?! The only other people I was friends with beside Carly graduated _last year_", she finished, pretending like he hadn't interrupted.

"What about Freddie?" Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, "And Gibby?"

Sam snorted. "I said people. Gibby is practically a pet. And _Freddie_", she growled distantly. "He's number one on my hit list right now."

"_Why_?" Spencer asked warily.

She sighed, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose, all tension leaving her body, anger oddly absent, before she murmured, "Carly kissed him before she left."

"_Oh_. Sam-"

"No, I'm fine- it's fine. I am _not_ crying", she hissed viciously, cursing under her breath at the stinging behind her eyes.

"_Sam_", he prompted again, tugging on her wrist until she finally gave up and leaned against his shoulder, and he pushed her hair out of her face instead of letting her hide behind it. "Do you want me to hook up the Wedgie Bounce again?" he offered seriously after a few minutes of only hearing her choked sobs echoing around the loft.

She laughed through tears streaming down her face. "Yes", she admitted, "but no."

"Does Freddie get fair warning that you're about to murder him, or are you planning a sneak attack?" he sighed.

"I just… wanna throw things at him until he figures it out", she muttered.

Spencer raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that how you play Boomba?" he chuckled.

Sam grins for a brief second before nodding seriously. "But not with oranges. With rocks, and nun chucks, that brick in my backpack… _my butter sock!_"

"Okay, okay- rein in your crazy just a bit", he suggested warily. "You could try _talking_ to him-"

"Very funny", she interrupted dryly.

"Sam, if you're gonna be mad-"

"I'll get over it", she said tightly.

"_Sa-am_", he groaned exasperatedly.

"I said I'll get over it", she shook her head. Sam gave up several minutes later. "I miss Carly", she admitted quietly.

He nodded. "I know. Me too, but no more drinking, okay? I promised Carly I would try to make sure you didn't get arrested", he teased.

She chuckled, but nodded anyway, "Promise."

Sam falls asleep on his shoulder, and eventually starts snoring. She doesn't wake up when he carries her up to Carly's room and tucks her in.

00

Sam wakes up a little after ten the next morning and finds herself in Carly's bed. She goes to the bathroom to induce a last round of vomiting that finally settles her traitorous stomach before brushing her teeth and taking care of the rest of her morning routine.

She slinks downstairs silently, still in her skull and bones pajama pants and a faded black band t-shirt, and takes more medicine to get rid of the mining elves in her head with some water and curls up under a blanket on the couch. Sam dozes off again watching _Food Network_.

She groaned when Spencer shook her awake sometime around noon. "Nnhh, go 'way", she complained, shoving a pillow over her face. "I feel like squished monkey poo."

He drummed on her head purposefully, ignoring her attempts to duck. "It's called a hangover, kid. I'm supposed to torture you so you won't do it again."

"Gah" she whined. "Please be nice."

He grinned. "Want some breakfast?"

She groaned. "_No!_"

00

When Freddie comes over later that afternoon, Sam's first instinct is to get away from him or give him a black eye.

"Move." It was her only growled warning before she plowed straight through him, not even stopping to comment in his girlish yelp of surprise and pain when she stepped in his foot. Sam tossed a look over her shoulder. "I'll be back in ten." She slammed the door behind her, glad she had actually bothered to change out of her pajamas.

"What the heck is the matter with her?"

Spencer shook his head. "Uhhh... She's pretty cheesed off. Just duck and cover if he starts throwing things", he advised.

Freddie snorted. "Oh, please. After all this time... I've gotten good at catching what she likes to throw."

"Yeah, don't lead with that", Spencer advised sarcastically. "Maybe running would be a better idea…"

0

Sam did come back half an hour later. Neither Spencer nor Freddie mentioned her discrepancy with the time as she went into the kitchen and took a container from the cupboard.

"Are you eating sugar packets?!" Freddie raised his eyebrows in bewilderment heading in her direction.

"Got a problem?" she snarled.

"And I'm backing away slowly", he murmured, stepping out of the kitchen the way he had gone in and went to watch television.

She was mostly subdued by the sixth sugar packet, and went to the computer.

Spencer eyed the mopey girl thoughtfully before he got an idea and disappeared into his room for a few minutes. "Aha!" he shouted finally.

Sam was focused on the computer screen when Spencer sneaked up behind her and rubbed something furry on her cheek. Her shriek made Freddie laugh, and she nearly fell of the chair.

"Spencer!" she complained, then stopped abruptly when she saw what he was holding. "Is that Mr. Fuzzy?"

He grinned and passed it to her. "I always meant to give him back", he shrugged. "But that was the first time you ever shared with someone besides Carly. I didn't know how to give it back without upsetting you and keep you from never sharing again."

She held the stuffed panda against her thigh, allowing her muscles to relax. Sam smirked. "Yeah, that sharing thing really took, didn't it?" she drawled sarcastically.

Freddie snorted from the kitchen where he was pouring iced tea.

She softened slightly for a brief second. "Thanks, Spencer", she murmured.

He just pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. Spencer is slightly surprised that she takes the offered comfort, but she hugs him tighter for a moment before pulling back, and he lets her go.

_Sam remembers being nine years old and falling off her skateboard at the park while playing with Carly. She had skinned her knee pretty badly, but managed to keep her tears to a minimum, only a few rolling down her cheek. Spencer had taken care of her, cleaning the scrape and putting a Band-Aid on it while letting her chew on a lime ice pop. It was the first time in a long time that she could remember feeling safe._

_She said a quiet 'thank you' and handed him her stuffed panda before heading to the freezer to give Carly a pink ice pop so she would stop sniffling over her best friend getting hurt._

Freddie sees the exchange out of the corner of his eye, but wisely says nothing. Whatever was going on with Sam, she obviously didn't want to let him in on it right now, and he didn't have the right to push.

00

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm glad you're liking this so far. Keep in touch.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**iCarly - Things Can Change**_

**Disclaimer: Oh, please.**

**Pairings: Sam/Freddie and Sam/Spencer fluff – non-romantic relationship**

**A/N: Okay, so I'll admit right now to being too old watch this show, but I cried for four days after I watched the finale. I decided the only way to quit moping was to start writing. Now, this isn't my first story, but it is the first time writing in this fandom. Let me know what you think.**

_**Chapter 4**_

Freddie's questions about Sam were answered later after dinner that evening when he received a quick email.

_To: Freddie_

_Hey- look, I told Sam… that I kissed you. She hung up on me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things awkward. But she's got her phone off now, so I'm sure she's mad… Geez, she's probably already strangled you by now. I'm such an idiot. I just- wasn't sure if she would come out and say it, or if she was going to act passively aggressively angry. Does that make sense? I thought I should warn you. I tried to catch you on video chat earlier, but I guess you weren't by the computer. I really am sorry. If you see Sam… tell her she can call and yell at me, okay?_

_Carly_

Freddie groaned loudly after he read through the email a second time. _Well, that explained things. Sort of. _He wasn't even going to try writing a response to this right now. He fell back on his bed tiredly, arms covering his face. Carly didn't even know the half of it. He was surprised Sam hadn't sucker punched him.

'_We need to talk.'_

When Sam had called him while he was at the mall with Gibby, he had given into a cocky moment and acted like a douche canoe, assuming she wanted to get back together. To be fair, she hadn't called him _that _often after they had broken up. But then, instead of actually _having_ the conversation, he had basically blown her off when he realized that hadn't been the reason for her call so they could focus on their friend. They really should have talked about that…

And then Carly went and kissed him. It hadn't meant anything more than a goodbye. And maybe Carly had given into her own moment of cockiness, thinking she was giving him what he had wanted for so long. His priorities had changed over the last few years though.

The fact that Carly had planted one on him before she left – not that he had hated it – should have come from him. The three of them had never been good with secrets.

He sighed and pulled out his phone to call Sam. It went straight to voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message and went across the hall to Spencer's apartment. He ignored his mother's insistence that he should be in bed, staring at the clock incredulously.

"Mom, it's eight-thirty", he said flatly. "I'll be back in a while."

Freddie knocked on the door and opened the door when he heard the muffled 'come in'. He found Sam sitting on the floor behind the couch attempting to put together the ping-pong table while Spencer watched from an appointed distance away.

"Oh, fantastic", Sam murmured dryly as Freddie stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. "You're going to be no help at all."

"Hey", Spencer complained. "I tried to help, and you wouldn't let me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Dude, I'd rather the directions didn't spontaneously combust. I might actually need those", she teased.

Spencer made a pouty face, slightly insulted. "Not everything I touch catches on fire", he grumbled stalking back into his bedroom and slamming the door.

"Did you check for all the pieces before you started putting that together?"

Sam scowled up at him. "I'm not the amateur in the room", she rolled her eyes.

Freddie smirked. "Kind of in a mood today, aren't ya, Blondie?"

"Just get out", she returned flatly, looking back at the floor and picking up a bag of screws. "I _so_ don't have the energy to do this with you right now."

"Sam, we need to talk about this."

"I don't know what you're whining about", she said seriously, "but we aren't talking about it."

"You know… you could just _tell_ me that you're mad at me because Carly kissed me before she left – right after we played dodge ball with a conversation about getting back together", he said dryly.

"Why would I bother when you so _clearly_ know everything?" she asked evenly.

"It didn't mean anything", he said quietly, crouching next to her. "I haven't been in love with her for years. You should have heard it from me, and I'm sorry. No one was trying to hurt you, Sam, least of all me."

"I was just surprised", she frowned.

"So surprised that you hung up on Carly and turned your phone off for almost two days?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yup."

"_Sam-_"

"God, could you stop being the chick in this relationship?" she hissed. "You can kiss whomever you want anyway, can't you? We broke up. It's not like I have the right to be mad. I'm not mad", she stated seriously.

"Will you forgive me?" Freddie asked quietly.

Sam arched an eyebrow at him, "Will you stop breathing down my neck?" she asked in the same tone.

He chuckled. "Call Carly. She's worried about you. She said you can yell at her, if you want."

"Wait, did she just get a hold of you tonight?" she asked incredulously. He nodded. Sam stared incredulously. "Damn. That's not much of a warning. You could have been in the ground by now."

Freddie grinned. "No chiz." He took her free hand and kissed the top of it playfully. "I'm ever so grateful for your benevolence, my kind lady."

Sam just groaned exasperatedly. "Get out before I slap you."

00

Carly had been gone nearly six weeks, and they were all finally adjusting into a new routine.  
Sam had half her possessions at the loft by now, and she was currently crashing there for several days by herself. Spencer had left Thursday afternoon to go camping with Socko... somewhere - she hadn't really been listening to the finer details. He said he would be back some time Sunday. Her mother had decided to go on an unplanned vacation with her boyfriend last week and had yet to return. So, if she was going to be alone, she would prefer it was in the Shay apartment.

Friday evening, just as the sun was beginning to go down, Sam was walking back to the loft with her tub 'o' chicken tucked in her arms when she saw a blur coming down the sidewalk across the street.  
Sam came to a full stop, a hunk of chicken hanging indelicately for her mouth when she realized it was Freddie. She was stunned. Firstly because she was shocked his mother let him wander the streets without her - and running was dangerous. And secondly... since when was Freddie athletic?

Sam followed him around the corner and watched him enter their apartment building. She waited until he was out of her sight before crossing the street and went inside as well.

0

Sam gave an obnoxious drum roll knock to the Benson's apartment door before using her key and unlocking the Shay's door. She left it open slightly and flopped onto the couch with her chicken, turning the TV on to finish a recorded episode of Fear Factor.

Twenty minutes later the show ended, along with her bucket of chicken, and she realized Freddie hadn't shown up. She went and banged on the door again, not stopping until he opened it.

"Dude, chill before you put a hole through the door", he rolled his eyes.

Sam snorted. "Oh, please. We both know your mom got a special steel-reinforced door installed after I kicked the door in last time."

"Yeah", Freddie nodded. "She still doesn't like you."

"I'm not exactly-" she stopped abruptly. "Well, hello, Mr. Muscles", she teased, suddenly realizing he had answered the door without a shirt on.

He flushed slightly. "I just got out of the shower. Let me get a shirt."

She smothered a grin at his discomfort and followed him, standing in the doorway to his bedroom while he tugged a dark blue t-shirt over his head with his back to her.

"Stop ogling", he muttered over his shoulder.

Then she did laugh. "I saw your nipples."

He grabbed a pillow from his bed and threw it at her. She caught it, the corners of her mouth still twitching. "You are so immature", he sighed exasperatedly.

She shrugged and chucked the pillow onto his bed. "Come over. I'm bored."

0

They were trading taunts and trash talk over a heated game of ping-pong when Sam went on the offensive. "So, when did you get all buff and stuff?"

Freddie smirked. "'Buff and stuff'?" he repeated. "That sounds like a gay porn shop."

She choked, and missed the next shot he sent in her direction. "That was _dirty_", she accused, sounding a little proud.

He grinned. "My point."

She groaned and retrieved the tiny ball from inside a stray tennis shoe. Sam tossed it back and let him serve again. "Seriously, though. How'd you get those nerd-boy muscles? I didn't realizing playing with your joystick could have so many benefits", she smirked.

He gaped at her for a split second too long.

"My point", she teased glibly when the ball whizzed past him.

He chuckled and bounced the ball back across the table to her before answering her question. "This place has a gym, you know."

Sam shrugged. "I saw you running earlier. I didn't know you did... that", she made a face.

"What? Run?"

"Exercise", she clarified with a slight amount of disgust. "I mean, seriously. Running is _sooo_ boring", she groaned. "Besides, I ate a bucket of fried chicken for dinner and I'm fit as a fiddle."

Freddie raised his eyebrows. "How would you know if running is boring? You've been skipping gym class since fifth grade."

"Communal showers", she spat disgustedly, "Like we're all a bunch of freaking nudists."

He laughed. "Come on, Sam. A little exercise won't kill you."

"Lies!" she retorted. "You just hope I keel over so you can practice your CPR technique."

"You should try it", he insisted, sidestepping her comment completely. "Come running with me."

"Hah, no."

Freddie shrugged. "Suit yourself. Probably better if you don't. We both know you'd never be able to keep up with me anyway", he said mildly.

"Excuse me?!"

He rolled his eyes. "That wasn't an insult. It's just a fact. I've been running for months. The only thing you've ever chased was a Fat Cake truck - and you only lasted for three blocks."

She scowled. "I could take you, Benson", she growled.

"Doubtful", he teased. "You've got low stamina."

"_What?!_" she squawked incredulously. "What did you say about my stamina?"

He smirked.

"I'm gonna run circles around you", she hissed

He quirked an eyebrow at her tone. "Prove it, Puckett", he taunted.

"You're on."

00

**A/N: Oooh! Game, set, match… Wonder what the result will be? I already know. ;) The next chapter is a doozy.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**iCarly - Things Can Change**_

**Disclaimer: Oh, please.**

**Pairings: Sam/Freddie and Sam/Spencer fluff – non-romantic relationship**

**A/N: Okay, so I'll admit right now to being too old watch this show, but I cried for four days after I watched the finale. I decided the only way to quit moping was to start writing. Now, this isn't my first story, but it is the first time writing in this fandom. Let me know what you think.**

_**Chapter 5**_

Saturday at 2 pm:

"You sure you want to do this?" Freddie teased.

"What are you? Chicken?" Sam taunted.

He laughed, "Whatever you say."

"Yeah, yeah, count it down before I cheat already."

0

"Make me a sandwich", Sam grumbled as she fell exhaustedly onto the Shay's couch.

Freddie laughed outright. "A bet's a bet. Don't you have something to do?"

She glared at him over the back of the couch. "How did you get so evil?"

He shrugged in amusement. "I learned from the best: manipulation mastermind, Sam Puckett."

She nodded thoughtfully. "That's probably true. Gah, fine!" she grumbled, heaving herself off the couch. Sam grabbed the bag she had dropped near the elevator and headed for the stairs. "I want food ready when I'm done!" she called over her shoulder as she disappeared.

Freddie smirked, quite pleased with himself. "This is gonna be good."

0

It was nearing six that evening, and they were waiting for pizza to be delivered. Sam was sprawled on the couch watching mindless television, and Freddie was playing chess against the computer when a video chat invitation popped onto the screen.

"Hey! Carly's calling for chat", he announced.

"Answer it!" Sam called obviously, not bothering to get up, voice muffled by the cushion.

Freddie hit the 'accept' button and Carly's face appeared on screen a few seconds later.

"Freddie!" she said happily.

"Hey, Carls!" he chuckled.

"How goes it?" she laughed.

He grinned. "Oh, it's really good", he answered mysteriously.

Carly raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so chipper? Hey, where's Spencer?"

"Spencer's camping for the weekend with Socko. He'll be back tomorrow sometime. Sam's been crashing here", Freddie laughed under his breath.

"Sam? Where is she?"

"On the couch acting like I killed her", he smirked, and turned the computer so the camera pointed towards the living room. "Sam, come say hi to Carly."

Carly saw Sam's hand poke over the couch cushions and wave around weakly, "Hi, Carls."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's hiding", Freddie explained. "Gimme a sec to get her", he sighed. He put the computer back in the original position and got up. "Sam, get your lazy, overdramatic ass off the couch!" he ordered.

"Can't move!" she insisted.

"You're being a sore loser", he pointed out wryly, staring down at her in amusement, arms folded across his chest.

"You bet _your_ ass I'm sore", she grumbled.

"I can't see what's going on!" Carly complained.

"Hold on!" Freddie hollered back. "Sam, don't make me pick you up and drag you over there", he threatened, wrestling her off the couch with some effort.

"Ow, ow, ow-" she whined.

"Don't be such a sissy", he teased.

"Oh, that is _it!_" They grappled for a few more seconds until she stopped trying to sucker punch him. "You'd better sleep with one eye open", she warned irritatedly.

"Come _on_", he prodded. "Carly's waiting."

He went back to the computer and sat on the bar stool, Sam trudging behind him. "She's coming", he told Carly mirthfully. "You gonna make it?" he asked over her shoulder.

"I hate you so much right now, you have no idea", Sam muttered, still out of sight of the camera.

Carly watched Freddie's half of the exchange with amusement and worry as he smiled slightly at Sam's proclamation of hatred.

"You lost, fair and square", he reminded easily.

"Lost _what_?" Carly demanded exasperatedly. "What's going on?"

"I bet Sam she couldn't run with me for a mile with stopping or having to vomit", he chuckled. "She did both."

Carly's eyes widened. _Not good._ "What did you make her do?" she asked warily.

"Hey, Carly", Sam's hand waved across the screen.

"Sam, you ran a mile?" Carly asked incredulously.

"She only made it about three-quarters of a mile", Freddie clarified. "Then she tried to make me carry her back here."

"Which you didn't, because you're a jerk", Sam muttered.

"I told you, you need to work on your stamina", he chuckled. "Ow! That didn't require a kidney punch!" he complained, rubbing his lower back.

"Sam, why are you hiding?" Carly asked, suddenly intrigued. "What was the bet?"

Freddie reached out and grabbed Sam's belt loop with a finger, tugging her into view, looking quite smug.

Carly stared in shock at her scowling best friend. "Sam… your hair is… _pink_", she stifled a giggle.

"I look like Strawberry freaking Shortcake", Sam snarled.

"It'll wash out in a couple weeks", Freddie laughed. "The bottle said twelve to sixteen washes."

"Oh, my god", Carly shook her head. _Sam had to go to school with pink hair._

Sam hoisted herself onto the other stool with a hiss of pain. "I. Am. So. _Sore_." She glares at Freddie who is still amused. "I have weird muscles burning."

Freddie smirked, and he poked her thigh.

"Ow!" she slapped him.

"I'm glad you two are getting along", Carly said dryly. "Freddie, you got a picture, right?" she chuckled.

"Yeah, I did", he grinned. "I'll send you a copy later. Sam, you'd probably like running if you didn't try and kill yourself right off the bat", Freddie insisted.

"Bite me", she retorted mildly. "Not gonna happen."

"Exercise is good for you", he repeated.

"Exercise made me toss my breakfast", she moaned. "That's how I know it's evil."

"Sam… try it for a week", he grinned.

"What's in it for me?" she tilted her head thoughtfully.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip, before an evil grin crossed her face. "If you're making me run… I'm gonna teach you to box."

"Oh, no", Carly sighed quietly.

"Box?" Freddie repeated incredulously.

"You heard me."

"I'm scared", he muttered.

"You can back out", Sam cocked an eyebrow challengingly.

Carly groaned. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

Sam smiled widely. "Trust me. This is a great idea."

00

Sunday afternoon:

They were squared off in the iCarly studio, each wearing a pair of boxing gloves. Freddie looked around warily, plotting an escape route, even though Sam only looking slightly malicious.

"Okay, come at me."

"Hell no", Freddie shook his head. "Your reflexes are insane."

"Don't be such a chicken, Fredward", Sam rolled her eyes.

"I'm not! I'm just positive that this is gonna end with you kneeing me in the balls", he said seriously.

"That's not a legal move in boxing", Sam sighed exasperatedly. "I play dirty in street fights. This has rules to follow. I'm not going to make you curl on the floor in a crying ball – at least not today. _Come at me_", she repeated. "I have to know how bad you are, so I know what to do with you", she chuckled.

He groaned, bracing himself for pain, and followed her order. It ended awkwardly. His right leg tangled around her left, one arm around her back, the other on her opposite hip, fingers digging into her skin where her shirt rode up.

She tilted her head slightly to smirk at him.

"First of all", she laughed and let them untangle, "this isn't wrestling. So quit trying to grab at me. Second, whoever you're fighting, you're never supposed to make the first move."

"You told me to!"

She nodded sagely. "I know. Consider it a learning experience. Alright, block me." Sam lifted her gloved hands pointedly.

"Sam, my mom won't be happy if I come home with bruises", he tried weakly.

"Then don't let me hit you", she repeated.

0

They collapsed against beanbags almost an hour later, both catching their breath.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sam asked mildly.

"Well, I'm still alive, so, ya know… two points", Freddie rolled his eyes.

She jabbed him with her elbow. "You are such a whiner. I didn't hurt you."

"You're a troll", he muttered. "And my ribs are bruised."

"Don't make fun of my hair! It's your fault", she hissed. "I have to go to _school_ like this!"

"_Sore loser_", he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever", Sam rolled her eyes. "We should get a couch up here", she said suddenly.

"A couch?" Freddie repeated skeptically.

"Yeah, it's too empty up here", she said quietly. "Spencer won't care. We could get a mini-fridge."

"You want to redecorate the iCarly studio?" he raised both eyebrows questioningly.

"Not completely- let's just find some stuff to put up here", she insisted. "It just seems to… empty."

Freddie sighed and gave in. "Fine."

00

That Tuesday school was cancelled due to a water problem. When Freddie went across the hall a little after eleven that morning, expecting Spencer to be doing something, he found Sam. He found Sam _cleaning the loft_.

He shut the door and leaned against it, watching warily as she swept her way down the steps. It seemed like she had been at it for a while. The house smelled like floor cleaners and bleach. The radio was blaring loudly, and she was wearing a large red t-shirt and tiny, white soffee shorts. She paused every few minutes to sing at the broomstick handle.

Freddie waited for the song to end before he spoke. "Having fun?"

She jumped, head snapping up to glare at him. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

The next song came on and he headed in her direction so they wouldn't have to shout. "What are you _doing_?" he laughed.

"Spencer's in Portland for the day at some art exhibit", she explained. "This place was starting to get dirty. The kitchen floor's still wet. Stay out of there."

He opened his mouth to question her further when he actually caught some of the lyrics of the song that had just started. His eyes widened. "Uh, Sam… where'd you get this music?"

"I raided Spencer's CD collection and came out with this- why?" Her hips swiveled to the beat and her head bobbed, free arm wiggling around playfully as she did a playful turn on the stairs.

"This song is really… _suggestive_", Freddie managed finally.

Sam tilted her head curiously. "Huh", she shrugged, "So what? I like this song."

Freddie groaned. "Come on, turn this off. This is probably Spencer's… mood music", he finished awkwardly.

Her mouth tightened slightly before she shook her head. "It's not", she said finally. "And _don't_ ask how I know that", she shuddered.

"_What?_"

Sam groaned. "Spencer prefers Barry White", she rolled her eyes. "He thinks it 'works for him'."

"Seriously?" Freddie raised both eyebrows.

"Trust me", she muttered. "That particular ten-second conversation was one hundred times worse than my mother attempting to give me 'the talk'."

"Pretend this conversation never happened?" he suggested.

"Agreed", she nodded emphatically. "Hey, go make me some bacon."

"You just said I couldn't go in the kitchen."

She frowned. "Check if the floor's dry. Then go make me some bacon! I've gotta get this smell of Pine-Sol out of my nose."

"Never argue with the girl with pink hair", he muttered to himself as he headed towards the kitchen.

"Damn right!" she called.

00

**A/N: Well, here's another one for you. And just so you know, the song I'm envisioning Sam dancing to is 'Come Baby Come' by K7. You can look it up on you-tube if you want. Thanks for reading. Leave me a review. =)**


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